I stood before the fire,  
holding the mask  
that once promised safety,  
a face I learned to wear  
to fit into the spaces  
where I didn’t belong.  
For years,  
I sculpted it carefully,  
each line, each smile,  
a careful construction  
of what others wanted to see.  
But tonight,  
the mask feels heavy—  
its eyes too wide,  
its mouth too hollow,  
a stranger to my skin.  
I let it fall into the flames,  
and as it burns,  
I feel the heat in my chest  
like a spark waking up  
from deep inside.  
The air around me fills with smoke,  
but it's the smoke of freedom—  
no longer confined to a shape  
I never chose.  
There’s power in this surrender,  
in being seen as I am—  
rough edges,  
cracked pieces,  
the truth I’ve held too long in shadow.  
I watch the mask curl and crack,  
disintegrating into light,  
and with every flicker,  
my world becomes clearer,  
brighter,  
alive in a way I never knew it could be.  
Some will turn away from the flame,  
they won't understand  
why I’ve burned what they once admired.  
But I am no longer afraid  
to let my light shine  
through the gaps  
where the mask once lay.  
In the ashes,  
I find my true face  
and the world around me  
blooms with a radiance  
that is mine alone to hold.